


The Scorpion's Friend

by Essie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Bloodlust, Friendship, Other, but possibly a little sexual?, not actually slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Essie/pseuds/Essie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Nobody is killing anyone,” Dean barks. He runs one hand through his hair and sighs, looks down at the machete in his other hand and steels himself for what he’s about to do. He brings the weapon up, presses the cool metal against his forearm, denting the skin but not breaking it. “You got that? Nobody is dying here. I’m gonna give you what you need.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scorpion's Friend

“You’ve gotta do it, brother” Benny’s voice rasps across the empty cell. “They gave you that blade for a reason.  Come on now don’t be shy. I know you can make it quick.” Benny tips his head back baring the long column of his throat, and Dean’s fingers itch around the machete in his hand. He can feel his heart pounding at the suggestion, his adrenaline ratcheting up, as his instincts tell him to go in for the kill. The vampire’s offering his damn head up on a silver platter, and all Dean needs to do is bring his hand up and around in one smooth thrust. His blade will slice right through the soft skin of that monster’s neck, nice and easy, like a line of floss down a brick of clay.

_No._

Benny is his friend, and he’s getting them both out of here. Sam’s going to find them eventually, he’s just got to keep them both alive long enough for that to happen. And anyway, he’s definitely not giving his captors the satisfaction. It’s clear enough what they thought would happen when they locked a hunter and a vampire in a cell together with nothing but a machete and a paltry sum of food and water.  It’s been god knows how long now, Sam sure is taking his damn time on this one, and the pallor of Benny’s skin the way he’s offering himself up to Dean’s killing blow tells Dean it’s time.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re not going to die.” Dean huffs.

Benny gives a sad little smile at Dean’s gruffness “You know the score, my friend, either you’re killing me or I’m gonna be the one killing you, and I don’t want to do that.”

“Nobody is killing anyone,” Dean barks. He runs one hand through his hair and sighs, looks down at the machete in his other hand steels himself for what he’s about to do. He brings the weapon up, presses the cool metal against his forearm, denting the skin but not breaking it. “You got that? Nobody is dying here. I’m gonna give you what you need.” He catches Benny’s eye; a bit of fear shows in his voice and all things considered it seems pretty healthy “Just don’t kill me, man.”

“Don’t,” Benny protests, but he’s not strong enough to stop Dean and they both know it “I won’t be able to stop myself. Please, brother, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“We don’t know when or if they’re coming back, or when Sam’s gonna get his ass in gear and find us, and until then I’m your only source of blood. Lucky for you my meatsuit’s one big blood making factory. But I’m not gonna be making you any more happy meals if you kill me. So you wanna stay alive, you want us both to stay alive, you stop yourself, ok?” Dean doesn’t know if his logic is actually helping or just making him sound like a dick, but Benny lets out a soft laugh. His voice is both warm and bitter when he replies.

“Said the frog to the scorpion.”

Dean’s familiar with the fable and it makes him hesitate, the fear in his gut twisting as his heart stutters. But he can’t let Benny die, not when there’s something he can do about it so he grits his teeth, grips his knife and cuts.

A wound opens on his arm, jagged and red. Across the room Benny’s nostrils flare and his eyes grow dark, focused on where Dean’s blood is oozing from the laceration. He’s shaking, and his lips peel back, perhaps unconsciously, his mouth too full of teeth.

“Go on.” Dean says holding his butchered arm out to his left non-dominant side, open and inviting, like honey in a trap. “Don’t get all Twilight on me. Drink.”

Benny lunges forward pins Dean’s arm down with his forearms and bends his head down to the wound. The first touch of Benny’s lips to his skin makes Dean flinch and his right hand closes harder around the machete in his hand. Vampires are at their most vulnerable when they feed, and Benny isn’t paying attention to anything but the blood he’s sucking out of Dean’s body. It would be so easy to just end him now. His right arm aches to move, the machete singing against his palm. A vampire’s got its teeth at his exposed fleshy bits. It’s kill or be killed. His survival instincts have kicked into overdrive and he’s practically shaking with the urge to follow through.

He can’t though. Dean forces himself to lie still, prostrate on the cold dirt floor, one arm pinned under a vampire the other tense at his side, his fist gripping the handle of his weapon so tight his knuckles are white.

Dean can hear the suckling noises as Benny drinks. Loud slurping sounds, obscene as they echo off the stone walls. He can feel Benny’s teeth scraping lightly against his skin but never piercing it. Benny’s mouth is wet and sticky, surprisingly warm, and Dean can feel the curl of tongue against the edges of his torn flesh. It’s making his stomach twist up in knots, curling in and around on itself as he tries to concentrate on his breathing instead.

The effort of holding his arms still is driving him crazy, making him antsy and twitchy. He throws his head from side to side, breathing hard and uneven, in an attempt to release some tension.  Dean’s crawling out of his skin and he needs to _move_ goddamnit.

He digs his heels into the ground and twists his hips up and around. His dick brushes against the inside of his fly, half-hard for god only knows what reason. His body’s probably so confused with all the mixed signals it’s getting that it doesn't know which way is up and which way is down.  Dean would probably be embarrassed by all the frankly pornographic squirming he’s doing if he weren't so fucking focused on not losing his goddamn mind and killing one of his best friends.

In reality it probably only lasts a few seconds, but to Dean it seems like hours before he risks a glance at Benny who’s looking about ten times better. His color has gone from a sickly grey to pink and flushed. He’s holding himself easier. Even his scruffy hair looks healthier. Dean knows it’s time to put a stop to this, thank god.

His arm moves before he gives it conscious permission to do so and he’s got the blade of his machete resting against the back of his best friend’s neck. “Stop,” he says.

Benny stills and slowly draws away from Dean’s forearm. His mouth his sticky with blood, and a line of blood and saliva connects them, lips to skin. He’s still looking at the wound on Dean’s arm with hungry eyes.

Now that the vampire’s teeth aren't physically touching him any longer some of his manic instincts ease up and Dean’s able to think a little more clearly. He removes the machete from Benny’s neck and brings his knee up and into Benny’s stomach, pushing him off and away. Benny grunts and stumbles back. He finally manages to tear his eyes away from Dean’s blood to glance at him. Dean can see the shame and guilt written across Benny’s face. It’s a feeling he’s intimately familiar with.  Benny scrambles back and throws himself into the opposite corner of the cell turning away from Dean. Dean doesn't bother trying to talk to him. Dude needs his space.

Instead Dean heaves himself up into a sitting position and inspects the wound. He’s had worse, and Benny’s pretty much already cleaned it with all his licking and sucking. If he wraps it, it should probably be fine. Dean takes one more long look at Benny, his shoulder shaking from want or shame Dean doesn't know, before he finally finally drops his weapon.


End file.
